Cadence of Ciar (The Fate Caller Series Book 1)

by Zoe Parker

The first one reads, Mark was found dead this morning in the park.

  Gods that’s awful.

  The last one, I can’t deal with it, I’m going home to be with my family.

  Skimming through the rest of them, mostly angry rants about how he never gave her the time of day and now it’s too late, I text back that I hope she’s okay and if she needs me that I’m here for her. After a few minutes of not getting a response, I tuck my phone away in my pocket again.

  “I don’t know why you like that human. There’s something not quite right about her.”

  “Psh, she’s a bit eccentric is all. Her parents put a lot of pressure on her to be perfect. I’d be off too.” Despite some of her more annoying traits I really think her heart is true. If I had parents who act like hers I’m pretty sure that my life would be one giant ball of anxiety and self-doubt also.

  Who am I kidding, because of my mother my life is one giant ball of anxiety and self-doubt. I just cope better than Lucinda does, sometimes anyhow.

  Plus, her crush is dead, before any girly fantasy she had about him can come to fruition.

  “I wonder how he died?” I muse out loud.

  “I can find out.” Ciar pulls his phone out of his pocket and makes a call.

  My brain goes nuts with thoughts of Trick. Who names their kid Trick? Is it a nickname or something? Maybe a designation? I wonder what things he’s got to take care of? At least he admitted he’s a chicken, but I don’t know about being a coward. All of us have things we want to avoid or hide from altogether.

  Oh, Keri, great job not thinking about it. I chastise myself, realizing just how in depth I’m thinking about the one I’m supposed to avoid thinking about. He’s this big mystery and I can’t help it, I want to know about him.

  He sent me candied flowers.

  “Are you finished with your inner monologue yet because I know how he died.”

  Blushing a little because Ciar is a butt hole, I look up at him. “Well?”

  “He was poisoned and then strangled with a belt or a rope of some kind. The urge to hunt is tingling, but something is keeping us from seeing who to hunt.”

  “Kind of like with my mother?” After a moment of searching my face with those unfathomable eyes of his, he nods.

  “Figures.” Chewing my lip, I walk into the living room, the really empty living room. I totally need furniture in here. “How exactly did you break the magic protecting her?”

  “Hiding from the Hunt is a temporary measure. Unless the spell is continuously fed, eventually it wears off. We are then called to them. Feeding the spell takes a toll on the caster, so you either need to be really connected or have more than one person maintaining it. Like the would-be Elf assassin.”

  “Someone was continuously feeding a spell that hid him?” Ciar nods at my question.

  “Speaking of the Hunt, I’ll return soon.” With a hard kiss on my mouth that left me wanting another he disappears, and I’m left alone with my thoughts.

  My brain skips away from the weird death of Mark the ‘Lucinda crush’ and onto the flowers. I pick off a candy petal and pop it into my mouth. It’s a thoughtful present, one from someone who took time to at least learn a little about me. This mysterious Trick person—who is obviously one of my Triad.

  The bad thing about my bond with these other two men is that its faint, I can sense them out there in the world, but it’s not hard to fool me with magic. Not something I like admitting, it’s nothing less than the truth. Either one of them can be right in front of my face and I won’t know.

  That particular thought makes me look around me suspiciously.

  “Why are you looking around like that?” Zag asks, swooping in from the back of the house.

  “Where have you been all day?” I immediately ask. He lands on my shoulder and flicks my cheek with his tongue. “Okay, the cuteness doesn’t change the question.”

  “You think I’m cute?”

  I prepare myself for the bombardment of reasons he thinks he isn’t cute—because he’s a big, bad Dragon—but instead he makes his little happy growly sound and settles around my shoulder like a warm, scaly scarf. He’s asleep within seconds.

  Shaking my head at him I stroke his tail and debate on harassing Ciar on what Zag is up to, because it’s something involving them both. I’m many things but not completely obtuse. Ciar has Gertie checking all the food in the house, just like he checked the candied flowers good and hard before giving them to me.

  Deciding that the first thing I need to do is to put the masterful creation of a dress up I grab the bag and climb the stairs, slowly, so I don’t jar the sleeping dragon. The house is already looking different, the Fairies and Brownies hard at work. They move fast too as demonstrated when I see my room.

  I stand there with my mouth open, staring at it.

  The walls are a beautiful light pink with silver dragons weaving in and out of its textured dimensions. With a cream-colored trim and curtains it looks like a completely different room.

  There’s a big bed now too. A four-poster bed dominates the middle of the room with a silver comforter draped over the end of the bed. There are mounds of pillows eating up most of the space on the mattress, but that’s how I like it. Hanging the dress on the back of the door I carefully slip Zag off my shoulders and lay him on the end of the enormous bed.

  Looking around to make sure I’m alone I leap onto the mattress. This thing is big enough to sleep four or five adults. Which means I can roll around all I want without Ciar griping at me. Giggling, I roll back and forth a few times and find myself facing an awake Zag who is staring hard on the mattress.

  “Mistress, lay still.” I’m not sure if it’s the quiet intensity in his voice or the absolute stillness of him but I freeze in place.

  That’s when I feel it, a thrumming energy coming from underneath the bed. Gods bless it I hate when Ciar is right, especially in moments like this. Something is under my bed, something magical that’s dangerous to me. He told me over and over to always check, always be careful and here I am jumping and rolling around on whatever it is.

  Aren’t I a genius?

  “What is it?”

  “Fire bomb, a small but potent one. It’s designed to only destroy the bed and its occupants.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Remain calm, Gertie is now under there working on it too.”

  This entire mess with someone trying to kill me is getting old fast.

  “I’m guessing my jumping on the bed like a dunce activated it?”

  He shakes his head. “If I’m right, which I am, it is waiting on another presence.”

  Ciar’s.

  Someone knows we’re together in that way, which means there’s a spy somewhere in my life. Automatically my mind goes to Lucinda and although sometimes she can be unpleasant there’s nothing she can gain from killing me. The Fairies and Brownies are clear too.

  Calsis did have a crew in here, yesterday, to take the furniture out and before Ciar put up his barrier ward anyone could have come in and out without my knowing it. At this point it’s frustrating because there are no faces to put with the actions.

  Some nameless entity is trying to kill me because my father is or was a member of the Moon Clan.

  We have a why but not the who. Honestly, I need to look at my mother’s former friends. They were the ones who gave her the dagger. My mother who was a Graywalker… wait, I bet they didn’t know what she was. That would explain her using magic to hide her true nature under the guise of being human.

  Why did she do that? There are too many questions and none of them have answers.

  “Okay, it’s dealt with, you can move now.” Zag says, visibly relaxing. He stretches and yawns, showing rows of sharp teeth that I know are as big around as my arm when he’s normal sized.

  “Just like that?”

  “Yes, whoever planted it was sloppy.”

  “Can I roll around on the bed again?” Laughing at my question, he curls into a ball
and tucks his tail around his face.

  “Yes, mistress—roll away.”

  I do so without needing further encouragement and while doing this I remember something. Daily my mother would sit at the ugly old desk that used to sit in the corner of the room and write into a leather back book that resembled a journal.

  She always hid it away in the closet.

  Hm. Jumping to my feet I go into the mostly empty closet noticing that one of the squares has a deep scratch across it. I push it and discover that it’s loose, I open it with only a little effort and dig around inside it. Finding a stack of what feels like books I pull them out and am pleased to discover they are in fact the books she used to write in.

  Going back to the bed I climb into it and sit cross-legged with the books spread out before me. I think it’s time to get to know the woman who birthed me and hated me for it.

  The rustle of the wind reminds of that a Fairy is near…

  ~Unknown

  Stretching to get rid of the kinks in my back I sit the open book on the bed and lean back against the headboard, trying to digest what I’ve read so far. I’m on the third book. The first two were all about her relationship with my father, Daya. She met him at a concert while she was stalking a man for prey.

  Graywalkers eat people.

  Apparently, my—father seems so intimate, so we’ll find another term—donor? Yes, that works. Apparently, my donor helped her catch the guy because he was following her.

  They hit it off over her dinner and started dating. Daya encouraged her to take on a more human façade and my mother fell head over heels for him. Until I read her words of love scrawled in her elegant—I hate using that word in relation to her but it’s true—script, I’d have never believed the woman capable of love.

  Gods know, she didn’t show it to me. Yet, she practically slobbered over the donor. Every other sentence is about his beauty or his charm. I can also see the little signs of manipulation from him, he’s sneaky that’s for sure. Little nudges for her to change her hair or her appetite. All of this over a year long period.

  Which all changed when she got pregnant with me. I saw that video, but her words are awful. While I was in the womb she tried to kill me several times, but his spell kept her from being successful. By this point Daya has disappeared and left me at her tender mercy.

  My creation was deliberate, so why leave me with her? Why never come back for me? Not that growing up in the Moon Clan is something I’d have enjoyed, but it’s a valid question and one day I’ll need an answer for it.

  Rubbing my eyes, I ignore the moisture there.

  Even after I was born she tried to kill me, but that spell continued protecting me. That’s the reason she got the dagger from her “friends” in town. Friends who are members of the opposition to the Moon Clan and with their name show their originality, the Sun Clan.

  I know a little about the clans dedicated to various deities and this one is young compared to many of them. The Moon Clan is dedicated to Donn while the Sun Clan claim to worship Faerie herself. They both claim to work their god’s will.

  I highly doubt that they work for anyone but themselves.

  I think it’s a safe assumption that they encouraged my mother to kill me, wait—that’s wrong, she wanted me dead way before that. They gave her the tool to finally make it a reality. That’s much better.

  The soft strumming of a guitar pulls me out of my dark thoughts. Standing up, I cross to the window. At the fountain in the backyard sits a white-haired man with a guitar on his lap. As he plays, the notes drift on the wind and, it feels like, directly into my window.

  The thread between the two of us lightly pulses. There’s no bond but the initial one yet but I know who he is or at least what role he is supposed to play in my life. This is one of my Triad.

  Annoyed with life in general and feeling a bit put out about the entire thing, I stomp downstairs and jog into the backyard before he can run away again. This time he watches me with eyes so blue they’re darn near white.

  As I get closer to him the temperature drops, which is cool and strange. If he were just an elemental of some type it wouldn’t affect the world this easily or drastically. He’s not putting any effort into it, at all.

  “Who the heck are you?”

  Sitting his guitar down on the fountain beside him he crosses his arms and glares at me. Yes, glares. As if he has a right to give me a look like that about anything.

  “Who uses the word ‘heck’ for anything?”

  “I do. Now, who are you?”

  “You went through your Awakening and summoned me here.”

  I cross my arms in defense. He’s angry, I can feel it all around him. Staring at him I take his measure. Spiky white hair, uncommon in the Fae world, vivid colors are the usual. It sticks up in all directions but still looks like he put some effort into making it look that way.

  His eyes are an unnatural blue, with white stars around his pupils that I swear are shaped like a dang snowflake. His eyebrows match his hair. The smile his lips curve into is not a welcoming, friendly smile. Nope, it says I hate your guts.

  It’s a shame too because he’s a really, really pretty man.

  “Faerie summoned you here. I’m stuck just as much as you are,” I counter after staring as awkwardly as I can. He has no right to come into my home and be a dick.

  “Release me from my bond,” he orders, his voice taking on a tone like Ciar’s but nastier.

  Makes me realize right then and there that Ciar was never cruel to me or demeaning, Ciar never sounded like this guy.

  “Not something I can do, and you know this.”

  He stands and crosses the distance between us. At his proximity I get goosebumps, my body naturally attracted to his. It’s a Triad thing and I refuse to acknowledge it any more than that.

  “I don’t want your bond or you. So figure out a way to make the bond go away before I make you.” There’s menace in the last three words, menace that makes me a little nervous.

  It’s exactly why I punch him in the face as hard as I can. How dare he!

  “Holy shit, you punched me!” he accuses, cradling his bleeding nose.

  “Duh, don’t be so shocked. You threatened me, I reacted. Is this how you treat everyone in your life?”

  “Life? You’re taking away my life! I have a wife and a child on the way, but I receive a call from a stranger that’s so strong I don’t have the ability to refuse.”

  My satisfaction from punching him turns sour in my stomach. Wife? Child on the way?

  I’m not the most educated on all things magical, but if I remember correctly a Triad member can’t knock someone up until after they’ve bonded with their Center. I’m sure it’s a way to make sure that Triads happen.

  He’s definitely a member of my Triad. I can feel the bond demanding to be forged between us.

  Something in his life is a lie and this time it has nothing to do with me.

  “I don’t expect you to ditch your wife and kid, dude. But the Triad has to be completed as much as it sucks for both of us.”

  “But we have to mate.”

  I laugh, it’s so funny meeting someone who understands less than I do.

  “No, we don’t. The love you have for your wife should be enough to keep you from having those types of feelings for me.”

  Triads don’t mess with true love. Human fairy tales have that right, real true love is untouchable by magic. But since he’s here… that makes me feel sorry for him. He’s being duped on two levels.

  “Why are you looking at me with pity?” he asks, suspiciously.

  Blinking, I try my best to blank my face, I’m not the greatest at it, but this time I’m trying. I need to find out more about this wife person and pronto. He might not want to be here, but his mess of a romantic life can impact mine and I won’t have it.

  ‘Neither will I, invite them both here to stay. I want to see this woman who claims to be carrying the child of a Triad member.’ Ciar’
s voice in my head only startles me a little.

  “You can bring her here to stay with you. I don’t have any intentions of forcing a romantic entanglement with a married, soon-to-be-father.” Even though I don’t think it’s his kid any more than Ciar does.

  The love part I can’t judge. I love one man and it’s still all new.

  ‘You admit it at least,’ Ciar teases.

  This new guy—who’s name I don’t know yet—might be part of the Triad, but he’s not family. Not yet.

  “You’re not going to force a connection between us?” Making a face at him I shake my head. Does he know anything about Awakening that’s true?

  “I didn’t ask for this either, so we’ll just take things nice and slow. The bond doesn’t have to be a love bond, you know that right?” I can tell by the dumb look on his face he didn’t know. “Where did you grow up?”

  “Everywhere until I met Penelope.” I watch his face for the dreamy look people in love tend to get and there’s nothing but a slight softening of his gaze. “She pulled me in off the street and we’ve been together ever since.”

  “Long time then?”

  “Three years this October.” He answered that fast.

  “Can’t wait to meet her. Now first things first, what the heck is your name?”

  “Rime,” he answers automatically, his beautiful, yeah, they are totally beautiful, eyes narrow at me. “You’re really not going to force anything?”

  “I’m not sure where you’re getting your information about Triads from but someone is feeding you a line of crap.” The mask of anger slips back into his eyes replacing the doubt that was there.

  That’s great, I made him mad again.

  “Penelope is a Mage she knows her magic. For you to even insinuate that she is being dishonest about anything makes me want to throttle you.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend it, Frosty,” Ciar says, stepping out whatever shadow he was lurking in. I’m actually quite thankful he’s here.

  Rime might seem a bit airheaded, but he’s strong, incredibly so I can feel it coming off him in waves. He’ll hand me my butt in a hot minute. Ciar on the other hand is his match or more. He’s the Pinnacle after all.